


Sketchpad

by buckyismymainman



Series: Avengers Oneshots [77]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking and smoking mentioned, Fluff, Gen, frat party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29705895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckyismymainman/pseuds/buckyismymainman
Summary: You’re dragged to a frat party that you don’t want to be at, but it’s not so bad once you meet Steve.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Avengers Oneshots [77]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1314041
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Sketchpad

The party wasn’t supposed to last this long. You were supposed to go in, mingle, and then get out and go to dinner. Your friends, however, had a different idea. Their “one more minute” turned into thirty minutes and their “ten more minutes” turned into an hour later. You grabbed an unopened bottle of water and headed into the backyard of the frat house you had found yourself in.

It was much quieter out here than inside the house where the bass was cranked all the way up and you could practically feel your bones rattling inside you. Tonight had not gone according to plan and you weren’t sure if you should feel annoyed that you had been forced out when you could be back in your room studying for the test on Monday.

Instead, you were trying to find a safe corner of the backyard where people weren’t making out or drinking and smoking together. The farther you went the less crowded it became until you found a fire pit that was practically deserted. A lone figure sat there and was drawing something in a well-worn sketchbook. He hadn’t heard you approach, too lost in his own work to care.

“Excuse me,” your voice made him jump and he looked at you with wide blue eyes. “Do you mind if I sit here? It’s a little too loud back there,” you said gesturing to the frat house where someone had dragged the keg outside and now had a group of people standing around chanting chug as some guy decided to chug whatever poor quality beer was in there.

The man shook his head, “I don’t mind.”

Smiling you took a seat across from him on the loveseat and leaned your head back to look at the stars. The sky was clear and you could see several of the familiar constellations winking at you from their spot in the heavens. “One, two, three, four, five–” You had begun counting the stars softly under your breath, just something to pass the time and fill the space with something other than the music and the cheering.

“Are you counting the stars?” He asked you, making you move so you could see his face again.

You shrugged, “I didn’t want to pester you with questions and it gave me something else to focus on besides that.” You hooked a finger back toward the house.

The man studied you, and then surprised you by asking, “Could I draw you?” His cheeks heated and he began backtracking, “You… you don’t have to! I’m sorry that came out so wrong. I haven’t even introduced myself and here I am asking a complete stranger if I can draw them. I swear I’m not a creep! I’m an art major and I’m having–”

You held up a hand and stopped his rambling from continuing, “I’m Y/N. And I don’t mind, it’s the least I can do after you so graciously let me intrude on your peace and quiet.”

He visibly relaxed and said, “I’m Steve by the way. I actually live here at the frat house.” He glanced back to where some of his fraternity brothers were now setting up beer pong and cringed, “I’m already dreading the mess and hangovers.”

That made you chuckle, “You know you could ditch them in the morning. It’s not your mess.”

Steve considered your words for a moment, “Very tempting, I’m not going to lie, but I would catch hell if I did that to them. No, it’s safer if I’m here and helping even if I did protest the idea of the party.”

The two of you fell silent while Steve began to sketch you. He had you shift your position a couple of times until he found one he liked and you tried to stay as still as possible while he worked. “Why art?” You asked after about five minutes of silence.

Steve didn’t look up from what he was doing, “I’ve always been good at it. It’s something I’m passionate about.” His gaze met yours, “What about you?”

“Still figuring that out,” you admitted. “I haven’t found my place in the world yet.”

He didn’t say anything like people normally did. You were tired of the people placating you and telling you that you would find it eventually or telling you just to pick something before it was too late. He just told you that when the time was right you would know what you wanted to do. After thirty minutes he had finished the majority of the sketch and he tore it out of the sketchbook and handed it to you.

“A gift,” he said. “For keeping me company tonight.”

That made you feel warm inside and you went to say something to him when you heard one of your friends call out, “Y/N come on! We’re ready to go!”

You looked over and held up a finger, “I’ll be right there!” You turned back to Steve and held out your hand, “Pencil.” He handed it over and inside the sketchbook you scribbled down your number, “If you feel like ditching your friends in the morning text me and we can go get breakfast together.” As you began walking away you called over your shoulder, “Night Steve!”

He looked down at the number you had just written in his sketchpad and smiled. Maybe the party tonight wasn’t a bad idea after all.


End file.
